


Love Song

by present_laughter



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3072443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/present_laughter/pseuds/present_laughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tauriel," Kili says, his eyes soft and full of an emotion Tauriel can't quite name. "My uncle and the rest of our company are, at this very moment, in danger of awakening a deadly dragon mere leagues away. So if you are going to insist on staying in this town, I am going to insist that you do it from this bed." - fluffy-ish Kiliel, the morning after she heals him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Tauriel and Kili belong to PJ, who brought their love to life (or I guess Kili belongs to Tolkein?) Please forgive any mistakes concerning the canon, it’s been a while since I read the book, and I know I made some not-nice claims about elves…

**Oh tell me, can’t you tell how my heart does swell?**   
**I’ve been dreaming of you all night long.**   
**But no word my heart sings does justice to these things,**   
**And it’s hard to write a love song.**   
**\-- Love Song, Poor Old Shine**

Tauriel wakes to the feeling of a gentle hand in her hair.

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the first place, only to keep a watch over Kili until she could be sure his fever had broken. Yet here she is, face pillowed on her arms, slumped over the table by Kili’s knees, with dawn breaking and Kili gently tucking a strand of fiery hair behind her ear.

She sits up quickly, feels the electric brush of Kili’s thumb as it slides down her cheek and drops to the table.

“You stayed,” the dwarf informs her, a delighted smile spread from ear to ear. He looks so unbelievably young that his near-death stings her all over again. She feels a sudden impulse to press her mouth to that smile, but suppresses it.

Instead she asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better!” he replies enthusiastically. Tauriel can’t help but smile. She is beginning to realize that Kili does just about everything enthusiastically. It is a charming quality.

“And your leg?” she asks.

Kili frowns, unsure. Swinging his legs over the side of the table, he gives it a few experimental kicks.

“Much better!”

Tauriel laughs out loud at the enthusiastic repetition paired with the return of his silly grin. She claps a hand over her mouth, surprised. When was the last time she laughed? Laughter, to elves, is impolite. It’s childish and indulgent and, Tauriel now remembers, utterly delightful. She get’s the feeling Kili laughs a lot.

“Hey, don’t do that,” Kili protests, reaching out to move her hand away. “It would be a sin to cover up that smile,” he tells her softly, fingers curling beneath her chin. Their usual positions are reversed, Kili’s face hovering above hers. Tauriel stares up into his suddenly heated eyes and wonders how a man can go from utterly adorable to positively sultry in such a short span of time. It’s rather distracting, and now she’s been staring into his eyes for far longer than she should.

She looks away, cheeks warm. “I should look at the wound.”

Kili drops his hand, sitting back with a sigh. “Be my guest.”

Tauriel focuses on peeling back Kili’s bandages, examining the broken skin and swollen flesh. The wound has certainly improved, but it is far from healed. She reaches for the _athelas_ plant and tears off a few flowers, which she presses carefully into the wound. Kili hisses in surprise, but doesn’t flinch. Tauriel is secretly impressed.

“You’re going to have quite a scar,” she murmurs, glancing up at him as she replaces the bandage.

“The more the better,” he responds with a wicked grin. “The women can’t resist them.”

“Is that so?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Elves see scars as a sign of weakness. Your scars mean you are a victim.”

Tauriel realizes she is testing him. She imagines the dwarf-like response, Kili sputtering defensively, his chest thrust out comically. If she can look at him as just another pathetic example of his species, rude and simplistic, maybe she won’t have such a hard time leaving him behind.

But when she looks up at him, Kili meets her eyes, his gaze even and proud.

“Dwarves see scars as a sign of courage,” he tells her solemnly. “Your scars mean you are a survivor.”

Perhaps, Tauriel realizes as she finds herself once again caught up in his dark, intense eyes, she should reconsider her position on dwarves entirely.

This time it is Kili who looks away. Leaning back on his hands he says conversationally, “I really didn’t think you’d stay. I thought by now you’d be off after your Elven Prince, hopping about and shooting orcs.” He tosses his hair over his shoulder and squints comically, in what Tauriel must admit is not an inaccurate impression of Legolas.

“Legolas can take care of himself,” she replies. And it’s true. Legolas is more than capable of handling himself in battle, and she finds that she has no real desire to go after him. She is quite content where she is.

“Legolas,” Kili repeats with another exaggerated hair flip. “What a silly name.”

“No sillier than Kili,” she challenges, eyes sparkling.

Kili scoffs, offended.

“Excuse me, but my name has been in my family for generations!”

“Has it?”

“No,” he admits. “To be honest I think they just made it up to rhyme with my brother’s,” he tells her with a conspiratorial grin, which halfway through is interrupted by a huge yawn.

“You really should rest,” she tells him, lips spreading unbidden in an affectionate smile.

“What?” he asks, eyes wide. “But I’ve been resting all night! I need to find Fili! We must go after our uncle!”

Kili hops off the table before Tauriel can protest. As soon as his feet hit the floor he gives a cry of pain, knees buckling, and Tauriel moves swiftly to his side, crouching to catch his arm across her shoulders. She looks up and his face is mere inches away. She can feel the scratch of his stubble as he turns toward her, sense his quickened breath on her lips. Tauriel feels incredibly warm, and worries for a desperate moment if she has somehow caught his fever. How can anyone make her feel like this?

“Thanks,” Kili murmurs. A lock of her hair has fallen between them and he reaches up to tuck it away. Tauriel stares up at him, frozen, while his hand moves to cup her cheek. His thumb brushes gently across her cheekbone, cool against her heated skin, and then trails, along with his gaze, to skim across her bottom lip.

A nagging thought finds its way up through her hazy brain: _Are you really going to let this happen, Tauriel?_

_Yes_ , she realizes as Kili’s hand guides her closer. _Yes I am._

“Kili!”

Tauriel springs away as a light-haired dwarf – Kili’s brother – strides through the door. She realizes guiltily that Kili is now grasping at the edge of the table behind him for balance, but Fili swoops in quickly, lending his brother his shoulder.

“How is your leg?” Fili asks him, voice rich with concern. “How is his leg?” he asks Tauriel before Kili has a chance to respond.

Tauriel straightens and brushes her tunic free of imaginary dust. She takes a step back, widening the space between herself and dwarves. She feels oddly lightheaded.

“Much improved,” she tells Fili. “But he will still need extensive rest and recuperation before he is ready to return to travel. Certainly before he is ready to return to combat,” she adds, giving Kili a stern look, which he avoids. “For now,” she continues, returning to Fili, “perhaps, a bed?”

“Sigrid?” Fili asks, turning toward the door where Tauriel notices, for the first time, the elder of the home’s daughters stands timidly, having followed Fili in.

“He can use Da’s, Master Fili,” the girl tells him, nodding to a curtained bed in the corner.

Tauriel holds the curtains back while Fili helps Kili across the room. With his brother’s support, Kili manages to heave himself up over the side of the bed, where he sits, feet dangling several inches above the floor. He gives her a soft smile, which she is helpless to resist returning.

“You should eat,” Tauriel realizes suddenly. “I will find you some food.”

“No, no,” Fili interjects, his gaze swinging between his brother and the elf, with their shared smiles. “We’ll do that.” He darts out the door, pushing Sigrid in front of him, and swings it shut before Tauriel has time to protest.

Kili tugs at the covers of the bed, pushing them down to make room for himself.

“Here,” Tauriel says, crossing to his side and holding the blankets up so that Kili can use both hands as leverage to lift his injured leg into position. Kili settles back against the pillows, grinning up at her.

“You know Tauriel,” he says, “If you wanted to get me into bed all you had to do was ask.”

Tauriel rolls her eyes. “I am going to see about that food,” she tells him, turning.

“Don’t!” Kili protests. He shifts over, wincing slightly, and touches the empty space next to him. “Stay with me.”

“Kili…” she objects weakly. As much as she had wanted to kiss him a few minutes ago, she knows it is better that she didn’t. She is not sure putting herself in such a position again is a good idea.

“Tauriel,” Kili says, his eyes soft and full of an emotion Tauriel can’t quite name. “My uncle and the rest of our company are, at this very moment, in danger of awakening a deadly dragon mere leagues away. By this time tomorrow this entire city may be raised to the ground, and nothing left of you and me but ash and bone.”

As if on cue, a distant rumble rolls off the mountain. She feels its tremor in the very floorboards, deep and dangerous.

“I am not well enough to leave to safety,” Kili continues. “But you are. And you haven’t left yet. So if you are going to insist on staying in this town, I am going to insist that you do it from this bed,” he finishes.

Another rumble shakes the house. It is louder this time, more persistent.

“Tauriel,” Kili pleads, his eyes once again filled with that deep, warm emotion. And Tauriel feels it too, warming her cheeks and twisting, pained and breathless, in her chest. Kili’s young, beautiful face is filled with _love_ for her, and she understands that she is already lost, because her heart returns it.

Tauriel slips quietly beneath the covers, facing Kili on her side. She places a gentle hand on his face, sliding it forward to fit the contours of his handsome jaw. Kili’s eyelids flutter closed, and he turns his face just enough to touch his lips briefly to her palm.

“You asked me something, when you were delirious with fever,” she whispers slowly. “Do you remember?”

 Kili nods.

“I wanted to answer before, but I couldn’t,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing an idle arc across his stubbled cheek. “I didn’t know how.”

“And now?” Kili asks, breathless.

Taking a deep breath, Tauriel pulls herself closer and presses her lips to his. She pulls back, opening her eyes just in time to see Kili’s face break out into his biggest grin yet.

“Now I can die happy,” he tells her, eyes sparkling.

“Don’t you dare,” Tauriel replies, and kisses him again. Kili responds, characteristically, with enthusiasm. He wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her closer, while his lips, so talented at smiling, move slowly against hers. His other hand crawls into her hair, fingers twisting in the fiery strands, and he deepens the kiss, gently coaxing Tauriel’s lips apart while her hand slides to the back of his neck.

Another distant rumble shakes the house, and they pull apart, startled.

“Don’t worry,” Kili whispers with a smile, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ll kill that dragon before I let him anywhere near you.”

“Not if I kill him first,” Tauriel replies.

Kili grins. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Elf.”


End file.
